Just a heads up so you can get over it before I do it. I’ve got a late afternoon outing at the venue/event below, which isn’t far from where I live. My friend expressed concern when I mentioned my intent. I pointed out (a) it’s very local and i can always leave; (b) I’m only going to taste it, not down it; (c) it’ll be the first properly social outing in 3.5 weeks. Oh, and (d) I’m going with a friend who’s a paramedic. He chilled on hearing (d). Thanks for your career choice, Jules!
I get a bit worried about offending people, so don’t take this one the wrong way. In fact, if you’re reading this, it doesn’t apply to you. (Unless I’haven’t seen nor heard from you in any way shape or form since 11 October, in which case it may!). But I’m finally reading stuff. I’ve read one of the magazines that Kate brought, I read The Week yesterday to catch up a bit, and Easy Living magazine which is the one I actually seek out most months. Anyway, two of their letters jumped off the page at me today, so much so that I took a photo for you. Not only because they resonated, but also because I’d like to remind you that some people are really in trouble. (See pic at end of post.)
In that same magazine is an article by Melanie Reid, who had an accident in April that made her a tetraplegic. I wish I could reproduce it or link to it because, just seven months on, she sounds like someone I’d like to know. But I can’t link to it as it’s not online. However… I googled and she also has a column in The Times. Links to two of them are below. I can’t imagine some of what she’s written and, to be honest, i wouldn’t want to try too hard. But a couple of the most minor fringe details, I can see. Anyway, two links below:
- The first, from the same month as her accident, includes the following paragraph: “Most of the time, you don’t know how ill you are, because you seriously refuse to consider it. You don’t think logically. You are trying to be brave for when they come to visit you, to make them smile and go away happy and think, she’s bright tonight, when really you just want to say to them: “Stay with me tonight. Please don’t go.”
- In the second she says, “They have moved me from the high dependency ward to the rehabilitation ward. I go with a feeling of insecurity, leaving behind the most elite of nurses. To Christine, Moyra, Yvonne, Wendy, Sharon, Katy, Carolyn….” This reminds me I need to hit doughdough.com for Pauline and Lisa from the Acute Stroke Unit at Hospital Number 2. (I wonder if anyone can understand that move if they haven’t done it? Or the complete security that the special nurses provide that make it especially hard to leave them behind. Hmm, doughdough.com.)
Anyway, if you can get hold of Easy Living this month (or borrow your wife’s), please do so, if only for Melanie’s article. Failing that, read it – page 67 – when you’re next in the supermarket. And no… I don’t work for them (though I once wrote a book review for them)!